I am throwing this one up too, so you guys can really get a feel for where the story is going. Let me know if you think I should continue.

Air Vents and Baseball Caps

The next day, all of the Penderwicks were downstairs, where Mr. Penderwick and Rosalind were making chocolate chip and blueberry pancakes for everyone. It was scene of perfect chaos. Hound had stolen an entire stack of Ben's pancakes, and Batty and Ben were both chasing him under the table and around the chairs. Jane was laughing, standing on her chair and pointing her pencil at Hound shouting spells and hexes at him. Skye was either too absorbs in her math to notice all of this or ignoring them all, the later the most probable of these two, because she was rolling her eyes.

Iantha came into the kitchen just in time witness the end of the ruckus, when Mr. Penderwick managed to grab Hound by the collar. "Be still demon dog," he commanded, a pan of sizzling pancakes still in the other hand. Hound obediently sat, but the pancakes were long since down the hatch, and he sat licking the spilt syrup off his nose. Mr. Penderwick looked up triumphantly and all the girls (and Ben) cheered. Iantha smiled fondly and slid into a seat next to Skye, who looked up briefly to smile at her. Rosalind set a plate of hot pancakes in front of her, and Iantha smiled as Batty and Ben took it upon themselves to smother them in syrup. Perfect chaos.

"So what is on the agenda?" asked Skye, once the whole family had gotten pancakes and had been hushed by the food.

"Soccer," mumbled Jane though a mouthful of pancakes.

"Decorating?" offered Iantha. That got a round of cheers from the younger ones. But Rosalind remained silent, stating at her stack of pancakes, and Skye remained silent staring at Rosalind. Mr. Penderwick looked at each of them carefully. "Skye? What do you say to that?" Rosalind looked up and met Skye's eyes across the table and gave her a tiny nod.

"Ok," Skye said finally. Rosalind nodded when Mr. Penderwicks looked at her as well.

Then the doorbell rang, a happy little bells that sounded a little out of place at the suddenly quiet table.

"I'll get it," Rosalind said, escaping from everyone for a moment. She pulled the door open expecting to find Jeffrey in search of Skye (as he seemed to always be) but instead found herself face to face with a tall boy with a Red Sox baseball cap, pulled down over curly hair.

"Cagney!" she said startled. Back in the kitchen, Tommy bristled and the bite of his fifth pancake froze on the way to his mouth.

"Rosy!" he said. "Just the person I was hoping to see!" He stepped forward and pulled her into a friendly hug. Jane and Skye jumped up to say their hellos to their favorite gardener, and Tommy did too, though he didn't look half as excited.

"Jane," he said, giving her a hug. "Skye!" He was going to give her a hug as well, until he remembered that this was not in Skye's nature and he instead extended his hand. She shook it, grinning widely. He straightened up then, to find himself right in front of Tommy. He offered a hand, in a friendly sort of way, which Tommy took, though a bit roughly.

"I don't think we have met before," said Cagney, his easy going smile killing Tommy.

"This is my boyfriend, Tommy," Rosalind cut in.

Tommy was hoping that this kid, Cagney, would at least stiffen at the word boyfriend, but he didn't even bat an eye. "Pleasure," Cagney said. I am sure it is thought Tommy.

"Cagney!" Batty came pushing past Tommy to throw herself into his arms.

"Is this…? Can't be Batty, can it?" Cagney said dramatically.

"It's me Cagney!" she squealed. "What is this?" she asked, peering around his shoulder. Behind him there was a tree, a Christmas tree.

"Well I heard you all were coming, and I thought you might need some Christmas decorations around this place," he said.

"Thank you," said Rosalind, smiling.

"Do you want me to bring it in?" he asked.

"I can get it," Tommy said. He puffed out his chest.

Cagney though, still did not seem to pick up on the tightness in his voice, and just nodded, a lopsided grin still on his face. Rosalind sure did though, and was shooting daggers at Tommy with her eyes.

Skye, sensing tension, grabbed Jane's hand and pulled her toward the door. "Let's go find Jeffrey," she mumbled. Batty chased after them.

The three sisters ran out into the cold snow, which crunched beneath their boots. The sky was blue today, and the sun shimmered on the snow, making it a blinding white.

"Did anyone feel the tension in there?" Skye asked.

"You could cut it with a knife," Jane said with a nod.

"Though so," Skye said. She wasn't the greatest at deciphering other people's emotions, but Tommy's misplaced hatred for Cagney was so obvious, it was like a slap to face. And a slap in the face might be exactly where that confrontation was heading; though Skye wasn't sure who would be slapping who in that instance. Tommy slapping Cagney for his attention he gave to Rosalind, Rosalind slapping Tommy for being a child… it could end so many terrible ways.

Skye, Jane and Batty were headed to a much calmer kitchen, tucked in the underbellies of Arundel, where Churchie was sure to be. Skye skirted around the drive way and rounded the far corner of the mansion, where there was the little wooden door. Skye found it to be a little stuck from all the snow, but she threw a hard shoulder into it, and with a shudder, it swung in. The three sisters stumbled into the warm kitchen and a stout woman with red cheeks poked her head out of the cellar door.

"Ah the Penderwicks!" she hurried towards them, eloping them all in a big hug. Skye thought for sure she was going to pass out, when Churchie finally released them, holding them all out at arm's length so that she might be able to look at their faces.

"You are all so beautiful! A bit peeky maybe, but we can fix that. I have gingerbread warming in the oven, dears. Sit, sit!"

"Of course!" said Jane.

"But we are looking for Jeffrey ma'am," Skye cut in. She didn't say ma'am to many people, but she adored Churchie so she made an exception.

"Oh he will be down soon, darling. He is a growing teenage boy; they don't miss a meal for anything," she said. Skye grinned and sat down in the little breakfast nook next to Jane. The little kitchen was small, the walls made of stone and the floors of hardwood, like it was something out of a storybook. It had two big potbellied stoves, and all sorts of big brass pots hanging from the ceiling that caught in morning sun and tossed it around the room. It wasn't long before Churchie had plate full of thick slices of gingerbread set in front of them.

"A hot drink maybe?" she asked.

"May I please have a cup of coffee?" asked Skye. Churchie raised her eyebrows.

"Skye likes coffee because she has to stay up really late studying some nights because she takes really hard math and science classes," Jane explained.

Churchie smiled, patting Skye's cheek before bustling away to make her a coffee. "You going to be a doctor or something?"

"An astrophysicist," Skye said.

Suddenly, Jeffrey came stumbling into the kitchen, half-asleep and still in his pajamas.

"A rocket scientist, basically," he said, with a sleepy smile and a groggy voice.

"Absolutely not! There are some massive differences!' Skye said indignantly.

"Good morning, Skye," Jeffrey said, cutting her off before she could launch into a complete list of the differences between and astrophysicist and a rocket scientist.

He threw an arm playfully around Churchie in a side hug before he slyly slipped a hot slice of gingerbread from the pan and took a big bite. She lovingly scolded him. Skye marveled at how much taller he was than Churchie now. He still had that same goofy smile though.

"Right then," Churchie said. "You kids better run along before your mother catches you. She has been in a bit of a mood with all of this stress that comes with all the planning for the party."

"Party?" Jane asked excitedly.

Jeffrey rolled his eyes and gave Skye a pointed look. "My mother is simply insistent upon throwing a Christmas party for every person she has ever met in her entire life. Seems pointless really, throwing a party with people you barely know," he said, his exasperation written clearly on his face. But while his lack of enthusiasm translated well to Skye, it was simply lost on Jane, who was still caught up in the whole idea.

"It will be like the Great Gatsby!" she said, breathlessly and in a poorly executed 1920s accent. She dramatically placed one hand over her heart and fanned herself with another for emphasis. Skye was groaning, almost at the point of physical pain just watching Jane's histrionic nature on full display.

Jeffrey was laughing, watching the exchange between the sisters like he was watching some soap opera.

"Would you like to take a peek at the party preparations?" he asked. Normally Skye would have protested getting caught up in Jane's enthusiasm for the party that Jeffrey so obviously loathed, but something about the way his eyes gleamed when he asked caught her attention. It was a look that promised adventure and trouble. It was Skye's favorite look.

And sure enough, Jeffrey's next words were, "It is going to take a bit of sneaking around…"

And it did indeed.

The four friends first slipped out of the kitchen into the large main floor of the house, which never failed to take the girl's breath away. The ceiling was soaring, tapestries hung elegantly from the walls and all the floors and heavy furniture were of an expensive mahogany. The main hall was open, with several rooms branching away from this, leading to the family room, the library (which Jane longed to get her hands on but had yet to get a chance) and the very end of the hall, big double doors that lead to the drawing room.

Skye could not, for the life her, figure out why it was called this, because aside from a the arching ceiling, marble floors, grand piano and massive windows that looked out over the gardens, there was not much else in the room…certainly not many places to sit and draw. But Skye chose to not ask Jane the reasoning for the name, opting out of what would surely be a long speech about the history of the drawing room.

Jeffrey nodded in the direction of these double doors, which Jane was quick to try, only to find them locked. Jeffrey shook his head and then nodded to the spiral staircase. The girls were confused, but they followed.

Once they had reached the second floor, Jeffrey lead them away, down a narrow hall way. He bent down in front of an air vent and quickly began removing screws that someone (presumable Jeffrey) had loosened before.

Skye crouched down next to him. "What are we doing?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

He looked up, light dancing in his eyes. "Snooping."

He pulled the grate away, revealing an air duct that was plenty big for a person to crawl through.

Skye looked in and groaned. "Why in the blazes does this old house have central air conditioning anyway?" she asked, mostly to postpone having to climb into the dark little tunnel that was looking quite unappealing with it's dark, gaping mouth and spider webs clinging to the dark corners. It wasn't that Skye was afraid of course, she just was not exactly looking forward to the experience. Jeffrey just shrugged.

"After you," he said.

"Why me?"

"You are the fearless one, remember?" She rolled her eyes, but around half way through their roll, her green met his blue. And she froze looking up at him, an unfamiliar sensation in her stomach, that she found that she liked because it felt something like winning a soccer game and that she didn't because it felt something like losing control. And not like the kind of losing control when she lost her temper, or because so absorbed in math it was like she had become the equations on the page, but a little more like handing the keys to your heart over to someone else. Or something like that. Skye stopped her own mushy thought by plunging head first into the tunnel, which seemed much more appealing now that it served as a way to escape his bright eyes.

Jane climbed in awkwardly behind her, and Jeffrey slid in last, propping the grate up against the opening to conceal it.

"Jeffrey, where are we going?" she said irritably, as she stubbornly ignored her still knotted stomach.

"Just go straight until you see light," he said from behind her, his voice echoing off the metal walls of the air vent.

"I can't see anything," she grumbled. "Heck, I can't see which way this dumb things leads!" This was obviously not entirely true though, as Skye proceeded to crawl down the metal tube, grumbling all the way.

A square of light appeared before them on the floor of the vent in no time, and Skye peeked though it to find herself seeing an aerial view of the drawing room. Skye stumbled back away from it, though not for the reason's one might think. No, she stumbled back because Jeffrey had crawled up next to her as she reached the opening and placed a hand on her back, as if to keep her from falling straight through the metal vent (however unlikely). Skye who had already been so unnerved from her strange rush of feelings after their stare down outside of the vent, jumped away from him like his touch burned.

"You ok?" he asked.

"Fine," Skye said, bitterly, like the weird feeling in her stomach was something he had done. It was something he had done, but he hadn't meant to, or rather, he couldn't help it (though Skye of course did not know this, and frankly, neither did he). He looked at her questioningly though, and desperate to keep his blue eyes away from her, lest they result in the confusing emotional onslaught as they did before, Skye improvised. "I am afraid of heights."

Jeffrey knew better, but let it go.

"Look," he said pointing, and Skye did, really looked this time. The drawing room was dressed exquisitely, in deep reds and emerald greens, and in the center was the most massive Christmas tree she had ever seen.

"Jiminy Cricket," Jane breather over she shoulder as she craned to get a peek. "Jeffrey, this is a party fit for kings."

Jeffrey laughed. "It is bound to be some Victorian form of torture. Mother says it will be delightfully entertaining," Jeffrey drew out his words the way his mother did, and Skye laughed; only to have her laughter cut off quickly by Jane who slapped a hand over her mouth. Skye realized why a second later when the unmistakable voice of none other than Mrs. Tiffin herself, floated up through the vent.

They could hear her high heels clicking on the marble floor. "Oh Dexter," she said, to an unseen Dexter Dupree who was apparently in the room as well. "Isn't it going to be delightful?"

Jeffrey was grinning. "See?" he mouthed, making the girls laugh (silently) before the scuttled out of the vent as quickly as possible.

"Thank you again, Cagney," Rosalind said. "It really means a lot."

Tommy nodded. "Right then, come on Rosy."

He was still staring at Cagney like he was his lunch. Rosalind made a quick an uncharacteristic decision that was rather brash and very Skye-like. "Actually, if it is ok with you," she said a touch of sarcasm edging into her voice, "I am going to talk to Cagney for a while."

There was a pause, when Tommy just stood there, gapping at her. Then his mouth grew into a perfectly straight line. "Right. Of course," he said, and he turned around and went back into the house, leaving Rosalind with Cagney.

Her cheeks were burning with anger and embarrassment. Oh she wished he wouldn't act that way around Cagney.

"I am sorry about him," she said, leaning up against the closed door looking exhausted.

Cagney just smiled and sank down onto the front steps, motioning her to join him. Rosalind sighed and did just that.

:He seems like he is a good guy," he said. Rosalind rolled her eyes.

"He is acting like a child," she said.

Cagney shook his head, making his auburn curls fall onto his forehead. "I can see that he care about you Rosalind. He is just scared to lose you."

"Maybe," She paused and looked at him sidelong, she could see that he meant it. Rosalind decided that she ought to change the subject. "How are you, Cagney?" she asked.

He smiled that easy smile he always had. "I am doing really well. I am studying history over at Boston College."

Rosalind suddenly started feeling very young and very foolish. She had completely forgotten that he was so much older, surely he was twenty-two or twenty-three by now, and why on earth would he want to talk to her about her troubles with her eighteen year old boyfriend!?

"What about you, what are your college plans?" he asked, bringing her back from her thoughts.

"University of Virginia," she said finally brushing her thoughts away.

He raised his eyebrows. "Impressive."

She thanked him and they exchanged a few more bits of small talk, before Cagney announced that he must be headed home.

"Are you sure?" Rosalind asked, standing up as he did, surprised by the abruptness of his leaving.

"Rosy you seem distracted. I think you ought to get back to him," he said nodding toward the house.

"I am sorry Cagney! I didn't mean to seem-" Cagney cut her off with a friendly kiss on the cheek. Rosalind wondered over how just a few years ago this would have gotten her all in a dither; stomach filled with butterflies, heart racing. Today it just seemed comfortable. A friendship.

"Make sure he treats you right, Rosy," he said before he turned around and walked back into the snow.